


Held: Season One

by ashes0909, FestiveFerret



Series: Held: Extended Universe [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Control, Control Games, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Happy Ending, Kink Negotiation, Kinky Possessiveness, Love, M/M, Mild Angst, Orgasm Control, POV Alternating, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Relationship Development, Safewords, Sex Toys, Some PWP, Some Plot, Sub Steve Rogers, Subspace, Voyeurism, lots of kinks, sweet and domestic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26001376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: After the ice one thing remained the same: Captain America gave the orders. In the middle of battle his world narrowed to a calm and controllable moment. When they fought the super-villain of the week, he knew what to do. He knew how to get his men in and out, how to minimize the damage. On the battlefield he gave the orders.People always assumed that would transfer to the bedroom, as well.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Held: Extended Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887250
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	1. Cuffed

**Author's Note:**

> This may look familiar! :D We got asked a few times to put all of Held into one work so it was easy to download, so that's what we're doing. Each season will be one work, with each episode being one chapter. The episodes that are multichaps will be called Display: One, Display: Two etc. We're going to be posting a few episodes at a time, but it'll still take a little while to get it all up. All the major tags for the whole thing are tagged already, but there may be some small content warnings on some of the chapters.
> 
> If you're new to Held, instead of having to wait, you can read the whole series [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/646247) There are two seasons.
> 
> We're also working on a Held remix as well, where Tony is the sub and Steve is the dom. You can read that [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955699)
> 
> This is mostly an archive, but we appreciate any comments and kudos on this one as well! :D Thanks guys - we love you!

There was a briefcase Tony held sometimes. He used it when they assembled, or when he had a particularly precarious board meeting to attend. It contained the suit, iron man red, sleek as much as sturdy.

But all Steve saw was the thin metal chain; twisted steel from the handlebar to Tony’s wrist. His tan skin was a stark contrast against the cuffs and Steve imagined his own wrist there, pressed between metal and Tony Stark’s suit. His cock shifted in his uniform and he had to get his thoughts under control or else his situation would soon be obvious.

He couldn’t stop staring at the chain, and so many thoughts flooded his mind. Tony holding the handle of the briefcase, pulling Steve along at his leisure. Bound. As long as Tony held the briefcase, he’d have Steve near. Wanted.

Once before he had felt this urge, when Bucky had retold his Hydra ordeal to the Howling Commandos. Straps had held him down to the table, unable to move. And Steve imagined himself captive, held in that that position on the table. Helpless. He pictured Bucky leaning over him, tightening the straps. Blood had thrummed through his body then, just as it did now.

Once he had felt this urge, and then it lay forgotten under the War and ice. 

Tony caught him looking. He knew because he could sense his gaze even behind the sunglasses. Could see Tony’s squint in his periphery; it was pinned on him, watching him watch the cuffs.

Under his eye, Tony stretched his fingers then curled them into a fist so that the tendons of his forearm shifted the muscle, the carpals twisting against the restraint of the cuff. The movement shot to his cock and Steve had to tear his eyes away, trying to shove these thoughts back where they belonged, but now Tony had noticed and Steve wasn’t sure what that meant. All he could do was turn and walk into the Quinjet, selecting a seat far from Tony.

But he still felt his eye on him.


	2. Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the battlefield he gave the orders.
> 
> People always assumed that would transfer to the bedroom, as well.
> 
> Steve felt his cheeks heat at the thought, at how wrong it was.

After the ice one thing remained the same: Captain America gave the orders. In the middle of battle his world narrowed to a calm and controllable moment. When they fought the super-villain of the week, he knew what to do. He knew how to get his men in and out, how to minimize the damage. On the battlefield he gave the orders.

People always assumed that would transfer to the bedroom, as well.

Steve felt his cheeks heat at the thought, at how wrong it was. Pressing his lips together, he willed the color to fade from his cheeks as he handed Tony the drink. The drink he’d been ordered to make.

It was a simple, mindless command. All the Avengers were in the common floor, setting the table for dinner. Natasha placed the silverware while Bruce handed Clint some bread rolls. Steve was ordered to the bar by Tony, and he followed the command automatically. It wasn’t until his hand curled around the whiskey, that he had the sense to blush at his eager reaction.

“Everything okay?” Tony smirked as he accepted the drink Steve presented. “You look a little flushed.” His voice had turned smooth and silky. Tony’d been watching him, had been for a while now, and his gaze burned with a challenge...or was it a flirtation? Steve’s blush only deepened, now feeling held in place by his words alone.

Tony gestured to the chair next to him.“Sit down, Steve.”

Steve sat.


	3. Kneel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew he would sit on the cushion by Tony’s feet. They both knew it.

Moving into the Avengers Tower changed everything. For one, it established a routine. Steve knew that when he returned from his run, he’d find his team waiting for him with a box of pizza and a movie queued up.

What he hadn’t expected was Jane. Not that there was anything wrong with Jane, she was a lovely lady and sweet on Thor unlike any other. But she was in his seat and the couch was otherwise full.

Tony watched him. Steve was looking at Jane but he could feel his stare. “Good to see you, Jane.”

“Thanks.” Her smile was warm and welcoming, and Steve tried to focus on it and not the way Tony’s gaze crawled over his body. 

“Oh, Steve, we can make room,” Bruce began as he shifted on the cushion. His hip hit Natasha who jolted into Clint and the two spies grumbled over the move. Steve was just about to apologize even though he hadn’t really done anything, when Tony cleared his throat. 

Steve’s eyes fell to Tony as if he had been waiting this whole time to be beckoned. “There’s plenty of room here.” Tony picked up a cushion-sized throw pillow and tossed it onto the floor, then gestured toward it. “You’ll be closest to the pizza too,” he added, casual. The rest of team had returned to their food and conversation, so when Tony looked back at Steve he was the only one to see the way Tony licked his lips; just a little, a brush of tongue against skin and Steve followed it along. He knew he would sit on the cushion by Tony’s feet. They both knew it. 

To a casual observer the act of sitting on the ground made sense, it was only in his mind that it was a big deal. No one else cared enough to question. Bruce even made room for him to slide by.

And then Steve was lowering onto his knees next to Tony. 

The press of Tony’s fabric covered leg burned into Steve’s back. He could see his bare foot next to his lap, and Steve had the fleeting thought of pulling the foot into his hands, rubbing it until he made Tony moan.

“Pizza?” Tony’s voice cut through the fantasy and Steve felt his skin flush, kept his eyes on the cushion as he nodded. That’s when he noticed the colors, stitched together iron man red and Tony Stark gold. It was like he had the man under him, in a way, and a shiver ran up his spine at the thought, the sounds of the movie falling away to background noise.

Steve shifted, knew he was sitting up straighter than he needed to, but Tony’s presence behind him was a warm reminder of how close they were; Steve was on his knees, put there by Tony. The pizza tasted like nothing in his mouth but he could pinpoint every spot on his back where they touched one another.

A hand brushed against his neck where the nape met the edges of his hair. Tony’s strong, calloused finger dragged along the soft skin and Steve stopped breathing, frozen until another finger joined the first, to press in and massage their way down the tense muscle of his neck. Steve stifled a groan, thankful for the dim lights and the cover of the movie, but he gave himself the small relief of relaxing against Tony’s leg. 

Above him, Tony made a soft, pleased noise and a knot deep inside Steve’s stomach unraveled, warming him with satisfaction from the inside out. The sensation didn’t surprise him, despite their strange, new behavior and heated stares, it seemed natural to sit here by Tony’s side, allow the man to feed him, to pet him. 

It seemed completely natural to want to make Tony happy. 


	4. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I need you.” Tony twisted the pliers one last time, then smiled. “To do something for me.”

“Steve, come here.” Tony’s voice was soft, but Steve hopped to his feet and crossed the room to where Tony sat at his workbench. The surface was littered with delicate tools and scraps of metal. Tony held pliers in one hand and a delicate circle of metal in the other. He didn’t acknowledge Steve’s arrival, beyond lowering his voice further. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Steve replied, trying and failing to keep the hitch out of his voice.

“I need you.” Tony twisted the pliers one last time, then smiled. “To do something for me.”

Steve nodded. He didn’t trust his voice. He wasn’t sure he could trust his knees not to give out.

Tony pulled his t-shirt off, revealing smooth skin wrapped around tight muscle, and the web of scars that surrounded the arc reactor. Steve wanted to reach out and touch, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t touch, or move, or _act_ until Tony told him to.

Tony's manic mouth started to move a mile a minute drawing Steve's gaze back up. “I had this thought, I honestly don’t know how I didn’t have it before, but it’s all I need to fix the cycling issue and even, dare I say, stop that pesky little short that happens if I go for a run and then touch metal while simultaneously running the microwave.” Tony tipped his chair back and tapped the fingers of one hand on the arc reactor, while the other held up the carefully shaped ring from the workbench. “Just a small addition to the casing. It’s genius, if I do say so myself, which I do, almost daily.”

Steve worried at his lip, wondering if he had imagined the growing tension from earlier, until Tony settled back into his chair, monologue over, and held Steve’s gaze in silence for a moment. “I need you to do exactly as I tell you.”

He was beautiful and serious and commanding and Steve’s stomach swooped as the rest of the world fell away to leave only Tony in sharp focus. The tension returned, tenfold, all wound through Steve’s nerves until it pulled him taut.

“Yes, Tony,” he replied, automatically, and then blushed as he realized how that sounded.

“Good.” Tony pressed the release and the arc reactor popped forward. “Take it out.”

The reactor was heavier than Steve expected. A thick, braided cable ran from its base into the casing cut deep in Tony’s chest. Steve cradled the device, intensely aware of the power he held in his hands. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure Tony could hear it. He wanted Tony to hear and know the effect he had on him.

Tony kept his hands on the armrests and directed Steve with only his voice - steady, sure, firm. Steve followed his instructions in a haze, his entire mind absorbed by his task. There was no workshop, no Avengers, no Captain America. He did as Tony told him and it was so easy.

With Tony’s guidance Steve teased apart the tiny pieces of the arc reactor and inserted the new piece, clicking it into place behind the vibranium housing.

“Good job, Steve,” Tony whispered, his smile playing at the edges between pleased, proud and _dirty_. The praise shot straight to Steve’s core and he sucked in a slow breath, keeping his hands steady as he snapped the device back into one piece.

Steve pressed the reactor back into its casing with a satisfying _click_. He let his palm rest over it, the blue light dancing through his spread fingers.

He was so absorbed in the reactor’s glow that when Tony’s hand slid to Steve’s hip he startled. The hand stilled and so did Steve, willing it to stay. Then it moved, sliding upwards until it could wrap around the fabric of Steve’s shirt and draw him close enough for the other hand to join it.

Tony walked his hands up Steve’s chest, grabbing alternating fistfuls of t-shirt and sending Steve’s clothes into disarray, as he climbed steadily higher. Steve leaned into the pressure, feeling the searing heat of Tony’s bare chest against the now exposed skin of his stomach.

Tony paused, hands clenched in the fabric over Steve’s heart, their faces only inches apart. His eyes flicked down to Steve’s mouth. Tony didn’t demand, not this time. Instead, he tipped his gaze back up to meet Steve’s and asked, “May I?”

The “yes” tumbled out against Tony’s lips as Steve surged forward.


	5. Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think you like me watching.”
> 
> Steve remained silent until he realized Tony was waiting for him to reply. “I do,” he admitted, face burning even though no one around them could overhear.

Steve had drawn this fountain, back before the War. He slid his pencil around the outline of the figure, and sketched the statue’s eyes into familiar brown ones. He gripped the pencil tighter. It was easier to focus his strength on the fragile tool than let his mind wander. Everything came back to Tony.

They’d kissed the day before and he hadn’t seen the man since. The ambient sounds of the park and the scratch of the pencil usually helped with his focus, but it seemed Tony broke through even his most reliable defenses. He remembered the pressure of his lips, his taste...then they had parted. Tony had pulled away first, pupils blown wide, and excused himself to a meeting with a twist of regret in his smile.

Steve shaded in the shadows as he thought of Tony’s lips. He hadn’t expected the man to stop by the door on his way out, and thank Steve for the kiss.

There was so much Steve hadn’t expected.

His pencil curved through the shadow and it reminded him of the way Tony’s hair curled at the edges.

“Why are you drawing that nymph with clothes on?” Steve stilled his pencil, breath catching Tony’s scent as it invaded the air between them. “Fewer blush inducing parts?”

“You’re a menace,” Steve mumbled as Tony slid onto the bench next to him, accompanying his teasing with an elbow to the ribs. Steve was unable to hold back a smile even as he covered the nymph with his arm. It looked too much like Tony. But the way the man’s eyes flickered to the page made him wonder if Tony had seen anyway.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Tony whispered, and the mood shifted between them with only a handful of words.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, and wanted to kick himself to stop his heart from racing as Tony moved closer to him on the bench.

“I’ve been watching you,” Tony added.

He sat frozen to the bench, waiting for Tony’s next words.

“I think you like me watching.”

Steve remained silent until he realized Tony was waiting for him to reply. “I do,” he admitted, face burning even though no one around them could overhear.

“I liked kissing you,” Tony continued, and it took every ounce of courage Steve possessed to lift his eyes from his sketchbook to meet Tony’s clear and close and searching gaze. “Can I kiss you again?”

Steve’s eyes dropped to Tony’s lips. They were full and slightly chapped from biting, and Steve closed the space between them as his answer. He thought of the families at the park, felt a brief rise of panic at what used to be indecent behavior, before he let the kiss take over.

Tony’s hand roamed to the back of Steve’s neck during the kiss and when they pulled apart, Steve wanted to drop his head into the steady weight of Tony’s grip. He knew the man had begun speaking and Steve gathered himself enough to listen through the haze of Tony’s taste, and touch and scent. “I’d like to be able to kiss you whenever I want,” Tony said, voice rough.

Pleasure rushed to Steve’s groin. “That,” he cleared his throat, “would be good.”

“I want other things too,” Tony continued, and Steve’s focus left the man’s lips, moved over the bit of collarbone that peeked above his shirt, his long eyelashes that fluttered with every blink. But Tony wasn’t blinking now, instead he grabbed Steve’s chin, forced their gazes to meet head on. “I want to do so much with you. But for now, I’ll kiss you and touch you, whenever and wherever I want.”

Steve sat on the bench, in the middle of Central Park, on fire, and nodded.

“Good.” Tony leaned back on the bench, breaking the tension between them with a sudden snap as he brushed a hand over Steve’s hair, rubbing it like you would a child, or a pet. Then he pulled his phone out of his jeans and tossed Steve a distracted smile. “I gotta go.” Tony took him in and softened at what must be his very flustered demeanor. “I’ll see you at home, come to the penthouse around seven.”

“Okay, Tony.” He leaned back on the bench, alone now, mind diving into all the things Tony might have planned. Kissing, touching, wherever and whenever. He wanted everything, everything Tony wanted.

He sat there for a long time, the half-finished sketch lying discarded in his lap.


	6. Gripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't put it down._

_Don’t put it down._

Back in the limo, Tony’s words had sent a shiver down Steve’s spine. Now, surrounded by all these people, the memory alone sent a shock straight to his groin. 

He rolled the metal sphere Tony had given him around in his palm. His hot skin had warmed it to body temperature. It was all he could think about, despite the press of the party around him, the music, the laughter.

Tony was somewhere in the room watching him. Watching him move it carefully from right to left to shake someone’s hand. Watching the flush creep up the back of his neck.

A pretty girl in a black dress offered Steve a drink from a tray, but he refused, not willing to give up his one free hand. The metal wrapped in the embrace of his fingers was getting him drunker than any alcohol could.

He could still feel Tony's hot breath whispering the lone command into his ear, the memory of it controlling his movements even while Tony sat several tables away. He imagined what else he would want him to do...

_Smile, Cap, people are watching._

_Play with it more, show me you have it._

_Don’t put it down._

Steve tried to focus on the conversation around him but his own mind tormented him. It was a charity benefit, he should be schmoozing. But all he could do was slide his thumb along its smooth, metal surface, feeling the tiniest of edges where the colors changed.

Brown eyes met Steve’s from across the room. Tony smirked and Steve’s hand clenched helplessly around the red and gold ball.


	7. Touched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to touch you,” Tony whispered in his ear, warm breath caressing his cheek.
> 
> “Anything,” Steve breathed out, sleep making his words mushy.

Steve didn’t know how long he’d been napping, but the light that kissed his eyelids was softer than when he had first closed them, so it must have been a while. A slight rustle of clothing next to him let him know he hadn’t woken naturally, but the sudden increase in his heart rate meant it was Tony crouching down next to the couch. Steve kept his eyes closed, waiting.

“I want to touch you,” Tony whispered in his ear, warm breath caressing his cheek.

“Anything,” Steve breathed out, sleep making his words mushy.

He heard Tony smile. There was another rustle and Tony bent over him, their chests nearly touching, then the barest brush of Tony's lips against his. Tony spoke so quietly a non-superhero wouldn’t have heard a word.

“Steve. Are you going to open your eyes?” The commanding edge to his question set Steve’s nerves alight.

“No.” He wanted to arch up and press their lips together, the tease of Tony's barely there kiss almost too tortuous to bear, but it wasn't his move to make.

“Are you going to move?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Light fingers danced down Steve’s side, then tucked up under his shirt. The cotton t-shirt and gym shorts he wore suddenly seemed naked and exposed as he blushed under the gaze he knew he was subject to.

Tony’s hands were scattered at first, flitting from place to place - hip, to shoulder, then back down to squeeze his thigh. The frantic petting began to calm, hands sliding slower and with more purpose. They caressed over the jut of his hip bone, along the side of his ribs and up to his chest.

Tony spread one palm flat for a moment, covering the place where the arc reactor sat in his own chest, then slid his hand up until his fingers circled Steve’s neck. Steve swallowed hard at the twisting deep in his gut that Tony’s fingers awoke. He was hard, but he had no idea where Tony intended to take this. He was entirely in Tony’s hands, and those hands were bringing him somewhere he’d never been before. He still felt half asleep, and yet vibrantly awake at the same time. Every touch was multiplied tenfold, but his body happily stayed willing and still, no matter where Tony’s fingers alighted next.

Leaving Steve’s neck, Tony ran his palm around his jaw and over his ear to settle in his hair. He threaded his fingers through the strands and combined a soothing massage with a slightly-too-hard tug.

Without visual input, Steve’s traitor mind immediately supplied the hundreds of things Tony could do with his hand twisted into Steve’s hair. Pull him around wherever he went, shove him to his knees, press him into the couch.

Tony must have noticed the effect he was having on Steve, but he didn’t seem to have any urgency in his explorations. His fingers wandered anywhere they liked, without pattern or rhythm. Occasionally they brushed along his straining erection, but they never showed any inclination to linger there.

What felt like hours later, Tony leaned forward again to whisper against Steve’s mouth, his hands continuing to explore. “I watched you in the park for such a long time, the other day. You were so beautiful, sitting there drawing. I could watch those hands move all day.”

Steve’s lips parted of their own accord, drawing in Tony’s sweet breath, willing him closer.

“I was late, Pepper had already called me about 37 times to tell me I’d better get my ass down to the office, but I couldn’t leave without knowing that you would let me do this. I shouldn’t have bothered going into the office anyway - all I could think about through the whole damn meeting was you. All the things I want to do with you. To you. The things I want you to do.”

Steve swallowed hard and heard Tony suck in a breath as he leaned back again. Steve mourned the loss of his warmth, but then the hand was back, sliding down his chest, lulling him back into that magical place of hypersensitive peace.

The hand ran down Steve’s leg, over the arch of his foot, and off the end of his toes. A satisfied little groan that sounded suspiciously like “mine” slipped out of Tony’s mouth, then Tony's footsteps padded softly out of the room.


	8. Pose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're far too beautiful to be this uncomfortable in your own skin."

_Open me. - T_

Steve pulled the ribbon and stared at the camera nestled inside the box.

The elevator chimed. “...they’ll be upset anyway. I sent a goat instead of Iron Man,” Tony tucked his phone under his ear and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t care, I’m here in New York and-- Oh, Steve! You opened it. Pepper, I have to go.”

Steve startled when Tony’s arm slipped around his waist. The easy affection was new and he tried not to focus on how much he enjoyed it, unsure if he was reading too much into the casual gesture.

“You’re so--” Tony turned him, hands gripping his biceps.“--Tense. Get the camera and follow me.”

Steve followed the order without hesitation. It felt like forever since Tony’s last order, his last touch. He had no idea what Tony had planned, but his uncertainty gave way to excitement.

Tony guided him around the couch that was pushed back to expose the large area rug. He took the camera from Steve and gave his shirt a gentle tug. Steve pulled it off and tossed it aside, warming under Tony's appreciative gaze.

“You're far too beautiful to be this uncomfortable in your own skin and-”

“I am not.”

“You are too. And don't interrupt me.” His eyes darkened when Steve snapped his jaw shut. “It makes sense. This body hasn’t been yours for very long.”

Steve crossed his arms and remembered when they were half their size, when Tony would’ve towered over him. “Maybe. A little. But that doesn’t explain all this.” Steve gestured to the camera in Tony's hands.

The camera flashed.

Holographic screens popped to life around them, reflecting the image over and over - a closeup of his bicep

“Good aim,” Steve teased. “You missed my face.”

“Nope.” Another flash, this one of Steve from behind as he turned to look at the screens. His back was, well, if it were anyone else Steve would be impressed.

He let out a heavy breath, and pinned Tony with a glare. "You think" - the camera flashed in a series of photos - "you know everything."

The screens lit up with Steve's face, eyes narrowed and mouth partly open, caught mid-sentence. He could see the amusement in his eyes, warring with exasperation. Was this how Tony saw him?

“I do know everything. Take off your jeans.”

Flash.

Steve pulled back the denim to reveal a pair of tight, white briefs. "Oh." The camera clicked rapidly. "Your ass looks divine in those."

Steve's eyes widened.

“That face,” Tony crowded into Steve’s space. “Anyone would be lucky to see you like this. Maybe I'll parade you around-” Tony's hand gripped his shoulder and lowered him to the rug “- on your knees. For everyone to see.”

There was another flash but Steve’s gaze was now on the obvious bulge in Tony's pants. “Look at me,” Tony whispered, and Steve's eyes flicked back up. “Fuck. You're pretty.” He took another photo before lowering the camera and staring at Steve. “I want to touch you.”

He nudged until Steve tipped onto the rug, removing his own pants before standing with one leg on either side of Steve's, to take another series of photos. Then he slid down to straddle him. “I'm going to pull you out, and wrap my hand around our cocks. Do you want that?

He nodded and Tony did exactly as he promised. With his other hand, he lifted the camera and photographed their cocks sliding side by side. Steve’s pulsed under the camera’s attention.

He wondered what Tony would do with these photos. The thought of him looking at them, hand wrapped around himself, was enough to make him moan. The sound was broken off by Tony’s twisting hand.

“I’ve been wanting to make you come for a long time,” he murmured, picking up the pace of his hand and Steve could only watch, their cocks disappearing inside a calloused grip. Fascinated by the sight, he felt an urge to pick up the camera.

Tony caught his glance. “Go on, pick it up.”

Steve flushed, but did. Tony wanted him to come, wanted to give him pleasure and it looked so beautiful through the camera. Steve took one last photo, before letting it fall to the side. One more turn of Tony’s hand and they both fell over the edge.

“Beautiful,” Tony whispered after they pulled apart, lying side by side on Steve’s living room rug. All he could do was nod in agreement.

[This](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f8/59/47/f85947f55b2fdcacc55057ad9ae79b68.jpg) also helped with motivation.


	9. Pose: Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I bet I can find a way to wear you out."

Steve stretched out on the floor, nestling his bare skin against the plush rug. He still tingled from head to toe after three mind-blowing orgasms. Every time his eyes caught sight of Tony’s hand for the next week, he was going to have to push away an erection. Those talented hands; Steve wondered if he’d be able to handle the feel of Tony’s mouth or his ass, when even the thought of them made Steve’s spent cock twitch inside his briefs.

“You’re insatiable.” Tony, sprawled out next to Steve, rested his chin on his palm as he turned onto his side. “I bet I can find a way to wear you out. Roll onto your stomach, let me see your ass for a moment.”

Steve did. His breath caught in his throat until he felt Tony pull back his waistband. With his face pressed into the rug, he felt Tony’s hand brush against his bare ass. “So, very pretty. I want to paint this ass red one day. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Tony.”

“You agree so prettily.”

Steve pressed his lips together, fighting a smile. “Of course, Tony.”

“Cheeky.” Tony swatted at his ass. “I bet you’re hard again.” A firm grip against Steve’s shoulder and Tony was turning him to see how right he was. “I’m going to have to invent a way to keep up with you. Make sure you’re taken care of the way you need.” Tony trailed his finger from his waistband to his nipple, circling the sensitive skin. “Do you like toys?” He bent down to lick at the nub. “I can make you all sorts of goodies.” He bit and Steve gasped at the pleasure and pain. “Would you like that?”

Steve arched into Tony, breath panting even as Tony pulled away, eyes narrowing as he waited for an answer.

“Yes, Tony.” Steve swallowed. “I’d like that very much.”


	10. Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t until the second act that Steve realized Tony hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about the toy.

The orchestra crescendoed into the middle of the first act and Steve shifted in his seat in Tony’s box at the Met. Every movement pressed the plug into a new angle, and he floated between pleasure and mortification as the opera faded into the background.

Every so often Tony would rub his hand up and down Steve’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting into the sensitive skin between his legs. The soprano sung, while Steve squirmed. He’d known what the toy was when Tony had offered it to him, but hadn’t thought about how one might feel inside him. 

It wasn’t until the second act that Steve realized Tony hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about the toy. A cellist led the strings into the next aria, when a vibration sparked to life from within the plug. Steve gasped, and Tony didn’t even try to suppress a dark chuckle.

His whole body tensed and the plug was unforgiving, shifting until the vibration rested directly on his prostate. He gripped Tony’s arm. Remembering the dark glint in Tony’s eye when he slid the plug into him -- Tony loved this, Steve flustered, desperate, turned into a needy mess for Tony.

“You’re doing so well,” Tony murmured into Steve’s ear. “You look edible, all dressed up and shaking. I bet you’d let me unzip your pants right here and take care of you.”

Steve’s head fell onto Tony’s shoulder as the ensemble sang on stage. “Yes, Tony. Please.”

He chuckled again and Steve closed his eyes, the sound rolling straight through his erection to land near where the plug nailed his prostate. “I’m not going to take you here, Steve. At least, not tonight.”

A whine spilled from Steve’s throat as he turned his head into Tony’s neck. “Jesus, Steve, you’re- fuck you’re hot like this. I thought we could make it till the end but- no, no, that won’t be happening.”

Steve started to thrust into the air above his hips now, spurred on by the way Tony’s neck smelled and how he tasted when Steve let his tongue run against his pulse.

“We’re going,” Tony said, pushing out of his seat in the middle of a duet. When Tony pulled him to his feet, the plug shifted again and Steve moaned, stopping mid-stride as he willed away his orgasm.

When they reached the limo, Steve slipped into the backseat, desperately hard, mind racing as he wondered what Tony’s plan was. What he didn’t expect was Tony sliding to his knees between Steve’s legs.

“What?” Steve stuttered, hips jerking forward under the onslaught of stimulation. Tony pushed him back onto the seat.

“I want you to come. And what did I say about things that I want?”

“You get the things you want,” he breathed out.

“And what do I want?”

“For me to come.”

“Very good.” Then he pushed Steve back so his ass dragged along the seat and he saw stars. By the time he had recovered, Tony had his pants unbuttoned and was pulling out Steve’s swollen cock. The first drag of Tony’s tongue around the tip almost had Steve believing he’d be able to last a few minutes. But then Tony sucked him down long and hard, so that Steve hit the back of his throat. His hips jolted, knocking the plug against his prostate and then Tony swallowed. Steve was done for, hips raising into Tony’s hands, cock pulsing in his throat and Steve shivered as wave after wave of pleasure shot from his prostate to the tip of his cock.

He leaned back and Tony slipped his hand into his pocket and the vibration stopped. Steve gasped, somehow missing the sensation that had tortured him for hours. But then Tony was lifting off from his cock. His tongue licked at his lips as he watched Steve, catching a drop of come that he had missed. Steve followed his tongue, eyes glued on his abused lips. He wanted to reach out, could see the bulge in Tony’s pants.

But instead, Tony zipped him back up and slid into the spot next to Steve. He knew he looked dazed and Tony seemed amused by it. “What do you say, Steve?” Tony asked, his voice taking on that low edge.

“Thank you?” Steve guessed and the corner of Tony’s mouth flicked up into a half smile.

“You’ll show me how thankful you are when we get back to the Tower.”

Then he took out the sleek remote and flicked the vibration back on.


End file.
